


Written In The Cards

by Katythewriter



Category: The Arcana (Visual Novel)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Original Characters - Freeform, Slightly - Freeform, Temporary Death, also: mild violence, magic!!!, rated mature for language + innuendos
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-11-22
Updated: 2018-11-22
Packaged: 2019-08-27 19:52:53
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,360
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16708969
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Katythewriter/pseuds/Katythewriter
Summary: Aya Rhyse, the  Apprentice with missing memories and insatiable curiosity embarks on a journey of her own when she's invited to the palace by Countess Nadia.





	Written In The Cards

 It's a moonless night when Asra packs his things to leave on another ‘journey’. It’s dark out when he leaves me behind once more. Even though I want to come, I know better than to ask him again. “I’ll miss you,” Asra says, turning around to face me. “Here,” he hums, “take this,” he smiles, crookedly, “for you to play around with while I'm gone.” I eye him carefully as he rummages in his pocket, “A gift?” I scoff, “this can't be good.” He chuckles lightly, handing me a square object, wrapped in blue silk. “my tarot deck isn’t an omen for trouble, despite what one may think.” My eyes widen, “M-Master,” I stammer, “but…are you sure? You think I’m ready?” Asra adverts his eyes, seemingly ashamed. “You're still calling me that,” he sighs, “you know I can't answer that for you. You've made incredible progress, but you still won't let go of your doubt,” he smirks, then, “do _you_ think you're ready?”

 

After a moment of no one speaking, I smile, “why don't we ask the cards?” I ask, teasingly. Asra smiles, “excellent suggestion,” he agrees, leading the way to the back room. “It's been awhile since we’ve practiced,” he hums, sitting down on one side of the table. I drop into the chair across from him with a ‘oof!’. I smirk, hand resting in my palm, “Because I've already perfected it?” I tease, and Asra's soft violet eyes widen. He chuckles, “have you now?” he hums, with a amused smile. A second later, his smile fades and his thoughts seem to wander. “You really are gifted,” he says, solemnly, “I shouldn't have expected any less.” He sighs deeply, and smiles. “Then let's not wait any longer.”

 

Something cold slithers along my ankle, making me glance down at my feet. A blue serpent tail slithers towards Asra, away from my pouty glare. Suppressing a laugh, Asra snorts, the sound so familiarly carefree makes my heartrate pick up. “Oh? We’re not alone~,” he hums, as the serpent wraps itself around Asra’s chest. That’s Faust, his familiar. I raise a brow at her and accuse, “are you trying to give me a heart attack?” The domesticity of it causes Asra to laugh. It’s short, but honest. “Well then,” he says, laughter ceasing, “if we are all here, let's begin.” I nod, and begin to shuffle the deck,  his gaze never leaving the cards as they slip through my fingers. Once I’ve separated the deck into three stacks, my hand hovers over each stack, before settling on the central one and flipping over the top card.  

 

“The High priestess,” I say, blue eyes waning from the card to his face, “and what is she telling you?” he asks, already knowing that she speaks to me almost effortlessly. “You’ve forsaken her,” I say, mildly confused. Asra seems just as taken aback, “I have?” I nod, “yes you pushed her away and buried her voice.  she called out to you, but you won't listen,” I glance down at the card and my brows furrow. When I look at him again, my gaze causes him to lean away. When I speak, my voice is full of urgency, “Master if you don't listen to her—”

 

We are interrupted by a sharp knocking. “A customer?” I mumble, gaze facing the door. Asra laughs fondly, “did you forget to put out the Lantern again?” he asks, voice fond as ever. He stands up with a sigh, “just as well. I can't stay any longer” He moves to the main room, and I hastily follow. “well then,” he says, wrapping his scarf around him and turning to face me, “take care of yourself.” I nod heisitantly as shifts uncertainly. He looks as if he has something to say, but decides not to as he walks towards the back exit, “Until we meet again,” he says slipping out. His words echo in my mind as I turn to the knocking at the front door. I shake my head, “he sure is dramatic when he wants to be,” I murmur, opening the door.

 

The person who steps inside is wearing a deep purple shawl and expensive looking clothes. Her voice is regal and she speaks, “excuse me for the hour, but,” the figure steps inside and begins unwind the shawl from their neck, “I will not suffer another sleepless night. Please, you must read the cards for me.”  I’m about to decline when the shawl falls away, revealing sparkling magenta eyes and gradient locks—my heart leaps into my throat at the sight of the Countess, Nadia Satrinava. “It has to be you,” she says, pleasant smile gracing her lips.

 

I grin, maybe a little fake, and put my hands on my hips, “You've come to the right place!” I say. She chuckles, “so I'm told. your reputation precedes you. Nobles and Citizens alike, the people of the city whisper your name in wonder. Although, in my dream you were different…” She shakes her head, placing her shawl on the counter, “no matter, I come with a proposal.” I frown, brow raising, “a proposal?” I echo, making her smile and eyes glint fondly, “not very talkative are you? Nervous, perhaps? you need’nt be, I require very little of you,” I’m unsure if that is supposed to be reassuring or not as she steps closer, “be my guest at the palace for a short while,” my jaw drops, as I suppress a gasp, “you will be afforded every luxury, of course. it is as my dreams foretold, I ask only that you bring your skill and the Arcana.” Though the last word does strike a cord, I’m confused. Refusing to let her know this, I fold my arm over my stomach and bow, “I’m at your service,” I rise, “Countess.”

 

She chuckles, “While there is no need for such formality, I am pleased to hear that.” She draws herself up by squaring her shoulders, “I will alert the guards to expect you tomorrow,” she says, “but before that, I want to see these talents of yours for myself.” I tense, which makes her smirk, “shall we do a reading?” Under her imperious gaze, I usher her to the humble back room. the Countess seats herself across from me, after I drop into my chair. her gaze darts around the small space before falling on the cards on the table between us. “go on,” she urges, as I proceed to shuffle the deck. she folds her hands before her and closes her eyes, listening to the sound of cards carding over each other.

 

Finally, when I place the deck into three stacks, I hum. I chose the right stack, and pull a card off it. I swallow a laugh, at the irony. “The magician,” I say, and despite the situation, I can’t help but think of Asra. He always says he feels most connected to this card, and even now, I associate it with him. Nadia Chuckles, “How very appropriate.” She peers down at the card, studying it’s face. “And what does he hold for me?” she asks.  My mind is clear, and the answer comes to me, easily as ever: “You have a plan.” I look up through my lashes, waiting for her to urge me to go on. When she does, I drown in my words, “One that’s long in the making. Years, upon years upon years. Now, you seek to set it in motion.” She hums, “should I move?” my reply is longer than she probably expected, and it feels as though the magician himself is speaking: “Yes. Act now, everything has fallen into place,” Nadia waves me off, “say no more,” she says, eyes sparkling dangerously.

 

 

Abruptly, she stands, eyeing the card one more time. I’m barely on my feet when she throws back the curtains and strides into the shop proper. I follow her, tripping over myself in my haste. When I catch up to her she’s always wrapping herself in her shawl once more, “Your fortunes are simple,” she says, “much the same as others I’ve heard,” she musters me for a second, “and you are the first to pique my interest.” I feel blush creep up my neck as she goes to stand by the door. She clears her throat, and I flinch, before darting to the door and opening it for her. She merely looks amused as she steps into the cold. “Pleasant dreams,” she says, “Aya,”  and disappears into the fog, leaving me frozen in the frame, staring after her. I slowly turn around and enter the shop, mind racing, “what could the countess want with me,” my mind muses, “a mere apprentice?” I stop dead in my trek to the stairs, “that talk of my reputation…could it be she mistook me for Asra…?” I shake my head, “No, she called me Aya…”

 

A raw voice cuts through the silence: “Strange hours for a shop to keep,” I flinch, “who said that,” my mind hisses. my gaze darts around the shop, chasing shadows in the dark. “ behind you~”  sure enough, when I turn I see a figure, looming against the door. “So, sources say this is the witches lair, so who might you be?” I freeze, my nails dig into my palm, my knuckles going white, my heart starts racing. As the masked intruder advances, my eyes dart to the door, assessing my chances. The intruder clicks his tongue, “up up up not so fast,” he says. as I begin to sprint for the door, they catch my wrist in a firm grip, and pull me backward. My back meets their chest, the mask’s beak curving ominously over my head. “tell me where he is,” they hiss, “and I'll let you go.” I grit my teeth and growl,  throwing my head back, I  knock the mask away. He gasps in surprise, and as I ignore the blood rushing through my ears, I seize my chance: I make a break for the back room, the intruder hot on my heels.

 

 I barely cross the threshold before I'm pulled back by the scruff of my dress’ bow. They chuckle, “you're a slippery one,” I scowl as his eyes stare into mine. for the first time, I take in his features. With auburn curls, closely resembling my own, pale skin, a stark contrast to my brown complexion, and gray eyes that would look beautiful next to my own, deep galaxy blue, he knocks the breath out of my lungs. I knew this man, once, everyone did. He chuckles, “oh you recognize me? then you know the trouble you're in.”  Back when they used to call him…

 

 “doctor Jules?” my voice surprises him, as it does me. With wide eyes he huffs, “I haven’t heard that name in years,” promptly, he shakes his surprise away, “Quickly now,” he growls, “where is the witch?” My impulsive, inner trickster emerges before I can think twice, “what witch?” I tease, “there are more than one living here, you’ll have to be more specific.” He pouts, briefly, before scowling once more, “you know who I mean,” then, my blood runs cold, as his name falls from the intruder’s lips, “Where is Asra?”

 

I furrow my brows, and a surge of rage causes me to disregard my safety, and thrash in his grasp, “I’ll never talk!” I yell, teeth grinding. Julian smirks, brow quirked, “oh, you’ll never talk?” he laughs, “how many times have I heard that one before~?” He fixes me with a cool glare, “never say never, shop keep.” My heart pounds violently against my ribs, but I stay still. He releases me as his gaze falls on the table, where the cards are still arranged as they were when I read the cards for Nadia.

 

“This is where you tell fortunes,” he muses, “isn't it?”  To my surprise, he drops himself into the reading chair, looming fearsomely over the table, as if it had just picked a fight with him. “perhaps,” he hums, “your cards can do the talking.” It feels right to do so, as I consider it. Maybe the cards can help me escape this situation without getting injured, since I know they won’t say anything on Asra’s whereabouts—I’ve tried before.  Hesitantly I take my seat, as cold eyes track my every move. “go on,” he urges in a way that feels similar to the countess, “don't be shy.”

 

 This time I pick the left stack of cards.

 

When the card is flipped, my mind starts reeling. Nothing comes to me but the blood, pounding in my ears. “Death.” He pales, if even more was possible in his cases, then scoffs, “death? _Death!?”_  he barks with uncontrollable laughter, sharp as ice. “you've got to be joking—" I jolt as his hands strike the table and he rises to his feet, “ --death cast her gaze on this wretch and turned away! she has no interest in an abomination like me!” He turns away, his cape billowing through the air, and I scramble after him. overcome with confusion, I emerge from the back room. “You've been hospitable,” he says, staring at me so intensely, I feel like running away.

 

I stay rooted to the floor.

 

“so I'll let you in on a secret. your Witch friend will be back for you. he's taught you his tricks.” I frown at his words. He speaks about Asra like he’s using me, and it leaves a bitter taste in my mouth. “you may even say that he cares for you, but when he returns,” he lifts his mask off the floor, staring into its glassy red eyes, “seek me out, for your own sake.” I grit my teeth, biting back a remark, “that creature is far more dangerous than you know.” His expression morphs from the cool, warning gaze to a softer smile, “Well, the hour’s late, and I'm out of time.”  After giving me a long, hard look, the doctor fixes his mask into place, and says with finality: “don't let him fool you, shopkeep.” the door slams shut behind him, as he disappears into the early morning fog.


End file.
